


The Reunion

by Evilsforreals



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Maybe sex, Reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:09:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4491327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evilsforreals/pseuds/Evilsforreals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connie is uneasy about attending his high school reunion; afraid that his inability to keep up with people has torn them too far apart. But this reunion turns out to be exactly what he needed; in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to MizyMiyajima, Kenjiandcompany, and Vashiane for the lovely ideas, incredible inspiration, and all around goodness to help me write! Sorry this took so long to get started T_T

“This is stupid Jean.”

“Oh, would you relax?”

“I am relaxed. I can be relaxed and still know that this a stupid idea.”

“There is nothing wrong with going to a reunion-”

“High school reunion.”

“Look. We're already almost there, it's a two-hour drive back. We're not going back.”

Connie let out a groan reminiscent of said high school years, and aimed a dirty look at the back of Jean's head. The amber head of hair gently waved as Jean shook his head adamantly. “Seriously Connie, I don't know why you're so against this. You were easily the most outgoing of our class. You got on well with everyone, hell, you were even friends with Hitch!”

Connie fidgeted with his hands as the palm trees rushed by.“It's been years, Jean. And I barely kept up with anyone. At least nothing lasting. You know how terrible I am at keeping up with Facebook.”

“You don't need to remind me how I have to tackle you and tattoo lunch-dates on your forehead with permanent marker. And I keep telling you Connie, Facebook is like 85% old people now.”

“Exactly! The only reason I kept in touch with you is because we went to the same college.”

Jean turned, and gave Connie an unconvincing pout. “The only reason? Are you trying to tell me that getting your ass handed to you in Mario Kart for almost three years straight was just because-”

“Oh fuck off,” Connie snapped, but he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. Jean snickered, and they continued the drive in relative quiet, save for the muffled beats of Nicki Minaj from Jean's battered speakers.

Connie distractedly ran a hand through his hair. He had started growing it out after high school, but was still sometimes surprised by feeling the weight and tangle of a full head of hair after so many years of keeping it shaved.

Growing up had been an interesting experience for Connie, to put it mildly. Since 2nd grade, he had attended an international boarding school where his parents both worked. That's where he had met Jean.

Jean had entered the school his 3rd year. The two of them initially bonded in bitter rivalry over who got to sit next to Sasha Braus, the new girl their 4th year. After a few pranks, several bloody noses, and two emotional refusals (both from Sasha), the two had formed a begrudging alliance that slowly turned into friendship.

Jean had grown up to be your signature jack-of-all-trades, becoming captain of the football team, head of the National Honor Society, and wrote a comic regularly for the school paper called Tales of the 104th. He had that casual cockiness that seemed to attract people to him, especially during middle and high school. 

Connie had opted for a more eclectic school experience. He regularly performed with the theater club; mostly as the comedy relief, but occasionally surprising people with extremely poignant and tearful performances. He was also exceptional in the wind ensemble on percussion, as well as the occasional vocalist in the jazz band. Any other time, and he would be either practicing parkour off of the playground equipment, or playing video games with Jean, and his other two buddies, Reiner and Armin.

Armin had been a painfully shy boy who had joined during junior high. While he initially had a hard time making friends, Connie had befriended him when he convinced him to audition for one of the theater productions. Even though Armin tanked the audition, the experience helped to bolster his confidence. And a year later, it was Armin's strategy that helped the football team win their first championship in over 15 years.

Reiner had been a gentle giant since they met in 9th grade, when Jean and Connie mistook him for a senior. Despite his size, Reiner had been extremely hesitant to join any sport, as he was worried about hurting other players or teammates. He and Connie had established their own private friendship, despite people's perceptions of them. He and Connie would sometimes just go on walks around the school, talking and venting their struggles to one another. They would take turns venting and listening; interjecting a joke when needed, or offering a firm shoulder pat to suit the mood. It had been a sort of tradition; not unlike Connie's inability to ever beat Jean in any video game.

Despite their very different tastes, and a rough beginning, Jean and Connie had remained friends through the rest of middle and highschool. When Jean started dating Marco, they had been voted “Cutest Couple” and Connie to his (slight) embarrassment had received “Best Third Wheel” in their yearbook. After graduation, they even ended up attending the same college; Jean planned to major in International Business while maintaining his long-distance relationship with Marco, while Connie took an English/Theater double-major. And now, they were driving to-

“Oi, Baldie,” Jean's voice sharply interrupted Connie's daydreaming. Connie blinked absent-mindedly before he shot another glare at Jean for the mention of his old nickname.

'I'm joking, lighten up,” Jean grinned as the jeep came to a jarring halt in front of a large wooden sign. “We're here!”

RAGAKO ISLES

Connie reluctantly pushed open the car door, and was greeted with a wave of warm ocean air. Connie paused halfway out of the car, taking a deep breath of his hometown. Salt and palm mixed with the slightly pungent odor of spoiling fruit. It felt almost surreal being back after so many years.

“You really are stuck in dreamland. Wouldya help me with the bags, or do you want to keep up the mournful widow stare?” Jean whined irritably from the jeep trunk.

“You still excel at sucking the fun out of travel I see,” Connie said brusquely, making his way to the back. Out came several dilapidated suitcases in the most unappealing orange you could possibly imagine (“But it was on sale Connie, it was like they were giving it away”). “Just promise me that this time you'll wait until you're out of public eyesight before you start ravishing your long lost love.”

Jean's painfully pale skin burned red hot as he glared daggers back at Connie. “You swore you wouldn't mention that again,” he hissed, jerking his head to the side to see if anyone was hiding behind the massive oak sign.

Connie smirked. “I did swear, as long as it didn't happen again. But I distinctly remember the aft-section of that cruise ship two months later-”

“ANYWAY,” Jean interjected with a trace of panic in his voice, “why don't we go check in?”

A bored looking hostess checked them in, handing them two battered card keys. Jean craned his neck as they wheeled the luggage through the lobby towards the elevator, searching for any familiar faces. A familiar ping snagged his attention, and he dove for his phone. Connie leaned forward and tapped the elevator button, as Jean began grumbling under his breath.

“Of course there'd be a delay, why am I not surprised,”

“Jean-”

“Forgot to fill up the gas tank of a plane, unbelievable-”

“Jean.”

“What??” Jean snapped, only to see that the door had opened, and he was blocking the way of a very confused looking elderly couple. “Oh- sorry, sorry,” Jean mumbled as he scooted out of the way, his cheeks burning. 

Connie did his best to hide the grin on his face as they stepped in. “What's the problem?”

Jean rested his head on the wall looking very sullen. “Marco's flight got canceled. He won't be here 'till tomorrow.”

“Oh lord, you're horny enough as it is,” Connie groaned. Jean opened his mouth with a nasty rebuttal, but Connie interjected hastily. “I'm joking! I know it's rough man, but at least we have a whole week of this nonsense. He'll be here before you know it.”

“There goes my impulse control for drinking tonight,” Jean grumbled.

“That's the spirit,” Connie cackled as the elevator door opened to a trio barring the door. Connie caught a flash of yellow, before he was nearly tackled off his feet by-

“CONNIE!” 

There was Armin, good old happy Armin, beaming with joy as he continued his courageous attempt to hug Connie to death. Behind him, he could now see the familiar faces of Mikasa and Eren, who were busy greeting Jean, broad smiles on their faces. Eren, tall and slim, still carried the swagger of a man much larger than reality, shaking Jean's hand fervently. And to the side, Mikasa with that soft smile that single-handedly won over their entire class senior year. She had cut her hair into an adorable pixie cut, but she still possessed a sharp edge to her smile and demeanor.

“Connie how've you been! It's been way too long-I should've called you more-but you're here! How was the trip, how's school going, what are you majoring in-” Armin stopped midsentence and finally released Connie to take a deep breath of much needed air. That was just Armin. So fervently passionate about things that he would run himself ragged on sheer excitement alone. Connie took that moment to seize his suitcase out of the closing elevator. All the good memories of him and Armin were suddenly rushing back. Sophomore year at the lake. The Great Egg Drop Fiasco of 2011. Not to mention the infamous Jazz Band Debacle their senior year.

Connie grinned broadly. “It's been way too long man. It's so great to see you.” This time Connie was the one to pull Armin into a tight bearhug. “How's Annie?”

Armin's eyes raised in surprise. “Oh you heard?”

“I'm terrible at keeping up, but I have Jean,” Connie laughed, feeling a guilty pang in his gut; surely a sensation he'd be feeling a lot this week.

“We're good, we're great!” Armin said. “She's grabbing something from our room. We were just about to head to lunch, you want to join us?”

“Are they serving booze yet?” Jean called over their heads. Connie saw Mikasa frown slightly.

“Jean, it's barely past noon-”

“Joking, just joking!”

“Like that time on the boat-”

A snort from Eren was all it took, and Jean's face was burning like the setting sun.

“Yeah, just give us a second to put our crap away,” Connie said, trying to steer Jean away. “We'll meet you at the lobby in five,” he said waving to them as the elevator closed behind them.

Jean stared at the door. “We could leave now. Just get back in the car and-”

“And leave Marco hanging?” Connie interrupted. “Come on, they were just teasing. It's a funny memory, that's all.”

“It's humiliating,” Jean lamented as they made their way down the hall to Room 104. “How was I supposed to know that deck spotlight was aimed-”

“Trust me,” Connie said shooting him a grim look, “no one wants to forget that more than me.”


End file.
